


In Tokyo Tower's Shadow

by extraordinary



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rin!" Haru calls out. His is voice filled with exaggerated annoyance, but there's some unmistakable relief mixed in there as well. The scarf Rin mailed out to him for Christmas is wrapped securely around his neck. Its charcoal colour — occasionally interrupted up by lighter grey sections and a thin, subtle steel blue stripe — suits him incredibly well. "You're late."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Tokyo Tower's Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this super self-indulgent fluff is based on one of my own trips to Tokyo Tower. You can find some pictures to go with this chapter on my blog, [here](http://matsuoka-lin.tumblr.com/post/111828299418/helpful-imagery-to-go-with-my-latest-fanfic-aptly) if you're curious! (I took some liberties with the potato, ahahaha.)

_"We will soon be arriving at Akabanebashi station. Akabanebashi station. The doors will open on the left side."_

Rin's palms are embarrassingly sweaty. He's frowning down at the screen of his phone (and absent-mindedly worrying his lower lip between his teeth), as he attempts not to let on just how bothered he really is by the disgusting mark his thumb left on its smooth surface a couple of stations ago. The image of a brightly smiling Gou **—** with one gloved hand holding up a battered looking umbrella, while the other enthusiastically points out an enormous Christmas tree somewhere in the background  **—** greets him there. Bold, white lettering at the bottom tells him it's currently:

 **16:03 Monday, February 2**.

Which means Rin is going to be late. Even if he makes a dash for the exit as soon as the doors open.

With a muttered curse underneath his breath, he grudgingly slips his phone back into his pocket and makes his way over to the doors on the left side of the train. It quickly turns out he isn't the only passenger getting off at Akabanebashi station, though, because a pair of elderly ladies  **—** who had previously been occupying a row of Priority Seats nearby **—** follow his example as soon as the train begins to lose speed. One of them is wearing a thick, plum coloured _haori_ -jacket over a modestly patterned beige kimono. The other is clad in an equally stylish trench coat. Rin nods at them on automatic-pilot, mechanically holding out an arm to indicate they should alight first. He makes sure to keep his head down as they shuffle passed him, too, and just as dutifully swallows the lump in his throat when his gaze inevitably lands on the stylised camellia flowers woven into the sleeves of the _haori_.

How fitting.

Once all three of them have made it onto the tiled platform, he quietly trails after the gentle _click clack click clack_ of their shoes. It echoes a little bit.

 

* * *

 

 

The short escalator ride up to the ticket gate floor is bearable enough, in and of itself. But the very second he reaches out to swipe his borrowed SUICA-card **—** courtesy of the ever reliable Makoto, of course **—** across the reader, his limbs suddenly feel like they're made out of _pure lead_.

Unsurprisingly, that's the moment the universe decides it's about time for his eyes to meet Haru's across the hallway.

As a result, Rin's steps falter. Very noticeably so. And the fingers of Haru's right hand immediately twitch in response (as if he's considering the possible pros and cons of reaching out to try and steady Rin's gait for him).

Perhaps even more importantly, though, there's a clear hint of a smile tugging at the corners of Haru's mouth. 

Something warm and unexpectedly soothing makes itself at home at the bottom of Rin's chest in response, then, and slowly spreads all the way up to his reddening cheeks. "Yo," He greets. "Haru."

" _'Yo'_...?" Haru instantly mimics. His voice is chock full of exaggerated annoyance (even though there's definitely a tiny little bit of unmistakable relief mixed in there, as well). And the scarf Rin had mailed out to him for Christmas is wrapped securely around his neck. Its charcoal colour **—** occasionally interrupted up by lighter grey sections and a thin, subtle steel blue stripe **—** suits him incredibly well. "You're _late_."

Rin shrugs. Walks over. Tries to resist the urge to run a self-conscious hand through his hair. "My mother called..."

Much to his relief, Haru immediately catches on and changes tack. His smile cautiously broadens, too. "Does that mean it's my turn now, then?"

"I suppose," Rin allows, very reluctantly,  and ducks his head in order to avoid having to look at Haru directly. The tips of Haru's leather boat shoes are just a little too close to Rin's own black sneakers for comfort, though. Dubiously eying the brightly coloured socks peeking out from underneath the hemline of Haru's pants, Rin decides he's willing to bet good money they're not nearly as plain as they seem. Honestly, they're probably some kind of collector's item. "Just make it quick, OK?"

"Happy birthday, Rin." Haru obliges. If a touch uncomfortably.

Rin shakily exhales into the high collar of his jacket. Then looks up just in time to catch the last traces of Haru's determined grimace. "Who knew I'd be celebrating it here this year, right...?" **  
**

True to form, Haru doesn't deem Rin's rhetoric question worthy of a response.

Instead, Rin simply gets a pointed nod in the direction of the station's only exit.

 

* * *

 

"Shiba Park's outdoor pool isn't far from here," Haru tells him, somewhat distractedly, while they climb the familiar, gentle incline leading up to Tokyo Tower. He's fiddling with the large, piping hot sweet potato in his hands: blowing short puffs of air on it in a futile attempt to cool it as he sets about breaking off a decent piece for Rin without burning his fingers too badly. The stone-roasted winter treat they'd bought from a street vendor at the bottom of the road is wrapped snugly in a sheet of brown paper, and the sight of its dark purple skin and cream-coloured flesh makes Rin's mouth water in anticipation. "It's a boring futsal field right now, but it has an adjustable floor and — _ah, this thing's way too hot!_ — they'll let you swim without a cap on. I like feeling my hair sway in the water."

"Mhm..." Rin hums, warm breath visibly fogging in the cold air, and tucks his chin deeper into the refuge of his collar. It's a guarded, deliberately neutral little noise that originates low at the back of his throat. There are a number of things he wants to say: _'That's not unusual in Australia, Haru. You should come visit me sometime!', 'Sounds nice. Let's go there someday, yeah?', 'It kinda freaks me out whenever you voluntarily talk this much...'_ or perhaps a simple, _'Your hair's going to get tangled that way, you idiot.'_   but he's afraid his voice will come out humiliatingly fond — or even _break_ — if he were to try. Instead, he settles on: "Hey, isn't that where Makoto developed that hopeless crush Nagisa keeps teasing him about? The one on that French lifeguard."

Haru nods absent-mindedly. His eyes momentarily flick in Rin's direction, before quickly honing back in on the task in front of him. It's kind of endearing. "He's going to try and get her number this summer."

"D'you think he's got a chance?" Rin asks, raising an amused eyebrow at Haru's frankly uncharacteristic antics. In a sudden fit of generosity, he reaches out to wrap his fingers around Haru's wrist and gives it a meaningful squeeze. Haru visibly startles at the unexpected contact, but he catches on a split second later and wordlessly allows Rin to tug the steaming potato close enough for him to take a bite out of its exposed side himself. Its sweet, mushy flesh doesn't feel nearly as hot on his tongue as he'd expected — Haru's hands must really be freezing cold, then — and it tastes absolutely _perfect._ "It must be nice swimming in Tokyo Tower's shadow. I can't blame him for looking for some romance there!"

"It's Makoto," Haru replies after a contemplative beat, as if that explains everything. A gust of wind playfully lifts the ends of Haru's scarf and sweeps his thick bangs right out of his face. It makes him look very young. "You think it's romantic, then? Tokyo Tower."

Rin makes another, carefully measured little noise. Then he takes a second, much larger, bite to win himself some more time to mull the question over before answering it. He's been doing that a lot around Haru lately. "It depends," He starts guardedly, avoiding Haru's unnervingly piercing gaze by pretending to become very interested in the small group of tourists walking up the path a couple of metres ahead of them. "Why...? Is there anyone you're thinking of bringing here? I didn't think you were interested in that kind of stuff." 

He can practically _feel_ the weight of Haru's stare sliding off of him as Haru reluctantly turns his attention back to their shared snack. Rin watches him take an unnecessarily large bite and marvels at how quickly the tables seem to have turned. "No," Haru eventually offers, once he's swallowed his mouthful of roasted potato and unselfconsciously licked his upper lip clean to his satisfaction. "There's just you."

"Huh...?!" Rin immediately stops in his tracks, earning himself a sharp look from an alarmed jogger, mouth gaping unattractively. "What the _fuck_ , Haru...? You shouldn't joke around like that, you idiot...! I nearly — "

"Who says I'm joking?," Haru cuts in indignantly, looking like he's just tasted something very foul. His voice steadily lowers in volume when he realises Rin isn't going interrupt his sudden outburst, until it's barely audible over the noise of the chattering group in front of them. "Why do you always have to _do_ that..? Don't you ever get tired of it?"

Rin swallows. His face is hot, and his blood is rushing loudly through his ears. This isn't part of their regular script at all — but then again; he'd kind of been _asking_ for this, hadn't he? He should've known better than to throw a gauntlet down at Haru's feet like that.

In hindsight, what he'd said to Haru about bringing someone else here had been unintentionally cruel and he deserves every bit of Haru's ire. He'd suspected — _and secretly hoped, even_ — that this wouldn't be just a normal outing between friends.

Of course, he had.

_Who wouldn't?!_

Haru'd asked him to meet at Akabanebashi station roughly one hour before sunset. With the intention of having dinner at Tokyo Tower's food court together... _on Rin's freaking birthday._ He'd even specified that it would be just the two of them. For fuck's sake. And the guy kind of looks like he'd dressed up for the occasion, to boot.

_Shiiiiiiiiiiiit._

Rin is completely messing this whole thing up, isn't he...?

"Makoto really isn't waiting for us inside?" He hears himself ask (embarrassingly weakly), like a peace offering, when the silence between them threatens to become unbearable. They're still standing in the middle of the road. Their current location, and their rapidly cooling treat, completely forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"No _._ "

"We're going up _there..._?" Rin confirms, pointing a finger at the main observation deck situated in the middle of the tower. If he squints, he can almost make out the silhouettes of excited tourists peering down from its huge windows. This really _is_ a date, isn't it?

"Yes."

Rin raises a disbelieving eyebrow. Yeah, this is definitely a date. _It's gotta be a date._ "I don't have to... y'know, pay for my own ticket...?"

"No," Haru mutters sullenly, scowl still firmly in place. At least he's no longer glaring down at the ground in between his feet, as if it had personally offended him, now. "If that's a problem, I can sleep over at Makoto's until — "

"Aren't you going to hold my hand, then?" Rin effortlessly breaks in, forcing the corner of his lips up into a tentative grin. He's got to salvage this somehow. He's just _got_ to salvage this, damn it.

" _No_ ," Haru repeats a third time, albeit a little less heatedly than before. When he finally meets Rin's awkwardly optimistic gaze, his eyes are wide and filled with surprisingly vulnerable hope. "We've already had an indirect kiss. It'd probably be best if we save something for later."

Rin nearly swallows his tongue in shock. " _What...?!_ " He exclaims a touch too loudly, automatically raising an apologetic palm to one of the tourists shooting them a disapproving look over her shoulder. "When the hell did that happen?"

Haru doesn't reply, as expected. At least not verbally. He merely takes another bite out of the roasted potato, carefully peeling a little more of the tough skin away in order to do so, and pointedly holds it up for Rin to do the same.

 _Oh,_ Rin thinks dazedly, _Right._..

And then he blushes furiously. All the way down to his toes.

**Author's Note:**

> Shiba Koen (Park) really does have a pool like that, apparently. Rules for the pool are based on [this amazing blog's review](https://tokyotombaker.wordpress.com/category/tokyo-lifestyle/swimming-pools/).
> 
> I'll try to finish this one soon. I promise. T___T


End file.
